She didn’t move, transfixed in time and neither did the handsome stranger. He gazed at her in surprise, then she caught his eyes and could not look away. She felt no fear, perhaps a sensation deep down within her of finding a safe harbor after a long voyage.
Locks of light brown hair fell to his shoulders, linen shirt open at the neck and a worn leather coat falling down below his knees.
Was this what it felt to be spellbound?she wondered.
Chapter 4
Marcus urged Hector into a gallop across Akeley Hill toward the ancient chalk horse, carved in the hillside, visible on the distant horizon.
What a wonderful day for a ride,he thought to himself, urging Hector onwards.
His cousin, Colin, rode alongside him. “It’s no good Marcus. I can’t keep up anymore. Hermes is older than Hector and I think he’s had enough for the day. I’ll take him back to the stables and see you later.”
“Very well. I’ll keep going toward the white horse, then down the valley and check on Leighton Woods. The Viscount’s land agent does a good job on that boundary, and I wish all our neighbors were as diligent and conscientious with their estates, but I’d still like to check the boundary for myself.
“You’ve been around nearly all the boundaries of the estate. It’s been long overdue,” remarked Colin.
“Yes, I think father has been struggling for some years. He needs a good estate manager. David Garrett has, I suspect, either been too lazy or just downright swindling the estate.”
“I tried to talk to your father about Garrett several times. My estate manager and the gamekeepers kept telling me he was neglecting raising the young birds, and last year he left the fields at Home and Willow Farms fallow. Your father told me he trusted Garrett, and I could see he thought I was a young whippersnapper who didn’t know the first thing about estate management.”
“Your estate staff were right in their assumptions. Tomorrow I shall dismiss Garrett. If you have anyone on your staff looking to progress to estate manager, then let me know. I trust your judgment, Colin.”
“Of course,” said Colin as he steadied Hermes, who was becoming restless.
“The difficulty is father. He’s starting to show an interest in the estate business again.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair, which fell to his shoulders, loose from its simple leather tie. “I don’t want to tell him what a mess the estate is in, but I can’t let it continue as before. It isn’t fair on the workers or tenants, and he must have been running the estate at a loss.” Marcus sighed deeply and grimaced at his friend.
“Why not give him the Home Farm to oversee? It’s not too far from the Abbey. You could put in a good tenant farmer who would let Uncle suggest ideas. “
“Colin, that is a very good idea. A stroke of genius in fact.” Marcus replied.
“With my one good idea for the day used up I’ll bid you farewell. Enjoy your ride along the north boundary.” And with that Colin was off, heading back to Granville Hall.
Hector almost flew across the downs toward the white horse. Marcus felt at one with the stallion as they soared over hedges and raced across the heathlands. As he rode around the northern reaches of the Hargrove estate, he was glad the walls and fences were in excellent condition.
Viscount Leighton was a good neighbor and he determined to call soon at Leighton Manor and share his appreciation. He seemed to recall his mother saying the viscount had recently married. Perhaps his mother could ask them to one of her dinners?
Seeing the woods stretching out into the distance he decided to take the track down toward the stream. The trees would give Hector some shelter from the sun and his horse could cool down in the water. If he remembered rightly there was a pool which would be a perfect place to take a rest.
I love this ancient forest. This track has been here for centuries. My ancestors managed the forest, making charcoaland coppicing trees for firewood. Now where’s the pool? I think I turn here, and it’s not far away.
He heard the sound of water, wondering how he could have forgotten about Leighton Falls and the waterfall which he and Colin used to climb when they were children. He had some bread and cheese in his saddle bag, well prepared for reliving those childhood days and eating lunch in a forest glade.
Approaching the glade, he tethered Hector to a tree, wanting to approach the pool on foot and work out the best place for his horse to drink. The rocks bordering the pool could be slippery. He’d check before leading Hector down.
A roe deer startled him as it ran gracefully across the track in front of him, so close that he could almost hear it breathing. He reached the clearing, noticing how the willow trees had grown to an almost gigantic size, making the glade into a perfect sheltered hide-away.
He saw the pool of water and pulled off his cravat and began to unbutton his shirt, knowing he wanted to swim in that cool, dark pool, hardly disturbed by the cascading water from Leighton Falls.
Something made Marcus glance toward the other side of the pool, where there was a grassy edge, a perfect place for Hector to drink. He almost missed the young woman seated on a woolen blanket, her head down, scribbling in a notebook. Herstraw bonnet with its green ribbon, blended into the woodland scenery. She had an otherworldly look, almost like a fairy.
As he watched, knowing he should look away, she stopped her writing and put her pencil against her lips, in deep thought. An intense concentration, thinking about whatever it was she was writing in her notebook.
How strange, he thought. Although she was dressed in a plain dimity gown, she was writing, as would an educated young lady. Perhaps she was the daughter of one of the local gentry or more probably one of the farm tenants at Leighton Manor? The path from Leighton met the path from Belvedere Abbey here.
As he moved forward to make her aware of his presence, he was startled into standing still again, as she undid the green ribbons of her bonnet and threw it down onto the blanket beside her.
He drew a sharp inward breath, seeing her hair had fallen from the pins holding it into a low chignon against her neck. She raised her hands to her wavy, hazelnut hair, and pulled it back into a restrained, tidy state. The reddish undertones glistened in the sunlight.
